CHAPTER XVIII 



I shoot roan — My enthusiastic welcome — Gotelo — A beautiful river — A 

 mad Sultan takes to the woods — We march with all military pre- 

 cautions — Punitive expeditions — The wonder-tree of Khandak — Much 

 ceremonial — My first buffalo — The modeikei, a new fruit — Good-bye 

 to shooting — Rocky territory. 



One of the Rizeghat offered himself as a shikari, so, 

 after a long talk and rest, I went off with him. He 

 asked, after the manner of a waiter with a menu, what 

 I would like to shoot, mentioning almost every sort of 

 game. I selected roan, and he brought me to their 

 grazing-place. There herds of every conceivable sort 

 of wild herbivora disputed with the cattle of the Rize- 

 ghat the rights of pasture. It was a wondrous sight — 

 one I would recommend to the head-hunter, but more 

 so to him to whom the study of wild life is joy. I 

 stayed only one night on the river, much as I longed 

 to prolong my visit. 



When my map was plotted I saw that a return via 

 Tearan was not impossible. The march over water- 

 less country in the muggy heat was a hard one. Sheikh 

 Abdulahi and his men fell out, and we had to send 

 water to them. When near Tearan we were so thirsty 

 that we made straight for the wells to avoid the delay 

 of water being sent for. Here, as in Kordofan, the 

 dilwa, a leather bucket that holds as a rule but a few 



